


Longing For You

by mzamethystcrow



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Sad Padmé Amidala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28489968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzamethystcrow/pseuds/mzamethystcrow
Summary: With Anakin away fighting, Padmé fantasizes he's with her. (This is a rewrite to Longing. https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2713127/1/Longing)
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Longing For You

**Author's Note:**

> Published originally on Dec 21, 2005 over on ff.net. Decided to rewrite it and stick it here. :-)

_**~Padmé~** _

I miss my husband terribly. I haven't seen him in almost seven months. Seven _long_ months. The Clone Wars have kept the man I love and long for away for far too long. General Anakin Skywalker is just one of many in charge of protecting the innocent and fighting the injustices of the galaxy against the Separatists. He's a Jedi Knight to heart.

Whenever we can, we sneak communications to each other, but it's never enough. I don't want to remember him on a Holovid, only speaking with regard to official business through communication channels for the Republic or on behalf of the Senate. I want him to hold me, touch me, kiss me again.

The last I'd heard from Anakin was almost three weeks ago. He'd been ordered to help in a rescue mission on a tiny plant in the Outer Rim being ravaged by the war. He promised he would send word he was all right as soon as possible, but I fear for the worse. It's just a gut feeling, although I know he's not dead. I can feel that much in my soul. But I don't know where he is now or if he's even okay.

This time, not even Obi-Wan knows where Anakin is.

I have to stop thinking dark thoughts. Sitting down on his side of the bed, I rub the wedding band on my finger with my thumb. I rarely wear it, knowing our secret marriage must remain that—a secret at all times. I wear it when I'm alone in my apartments, in what would be our home were he not a Jedi and the galaxy was not at war.

I close my eyes and sigh. A smile pulls at my lips at the fond memories he left me with the last time he was here. The ones where he holds me, touches me, and kisses me. Memories I have to keep from going insane in all the madness this war is causing.

I glance at the chrono on the side of the bed. It's late and I have an early morning tomorrow, cosponsoring a bill to be presented on the Senate floor. Turning off the light, I slip into bed, the cool sheets brushing against my skin.

I dream what I've long wished for: that his mouth is desperate for mine, eager for me to respond. He's demanding I open my mouth for his tongue to enter and I allow it. I don't hesitate in kissing him back, our teeth gnashing in the fervor to taste each other. My need matches his own as his hands roam my body, skimming and cupping my breasts, his thumb grazing my nipples before he takes one into his mouth. He nips at me, causing me to gasp and I pull on his hair. His other hand has found it's way to my hip, rounding the swell of it with his fingertips before finding my core. He slips a finger, then two in me and I shudder. He worships me, caressing me in every which way I want. He flips me over onto my stomach, fisting my hair and pulling my head back for a savage kiss, and then he's slowly pumping into me, driving me wild. My whimpers only make his gentle lovemaking all the more tender.

I startle myself awake with my own panting and moans. I'm drenched in sweat and my sheets are in a tangled mess. My dream was vivid and erotic, not that I mind. It's a distraction from my nightmares, my fears of losing Anakin.

I want to continue the euphoria it caused, so I strip myself of the nightgown I'm wearing and settle into the sheets once more. I ache for my husband, my body screaming that much. I have so much pent-up sexual frustration and no outlet.

I'm hot for my missing husband's touch, but I'll have to settle for my own. I move my hands under the sheet, gracefully caressing my breasts. I tug at my nipples, causing them to become erect. I circle each one with one hand, sending shivers through my body. The ache and wetness between my thighs increases with each gentle caress. My other hand slowly travels down to between my legs and I gasp when I lightly touch the soft, sensitive numb between my folds. I'm surprised I can cause such an awaking in my body so quickly, but thinking of my husband must be the cause. I shyly open my legs wider, pretending it's my husband all the while pleasuring myself. I close my eyes and bury my face into his pillow, as I continue to stroke myself, whimpering and moaning.

_**~Anakin~** _

I've been thinking of my wife non-stop, day-after-day since I left her seven months ago. She's the only reason I keep going some days in this horrific war, my heart set on seeing her again. I've been separated from her for entirely too long. My journey home consisted of thinking about all the ways I want to make love to her, pound with a harsh rhythm into her, make her scream my name when she comes, beg me not to stop, and so forth.

I've slipped in during the night, unannounced, hoping to wake my wife with the purpose of showing her how much I love and miss her. Though it's a rare talent, but one I've developed, I mask my entrance by using the Force. I don't want her to even suspect I'm home.

I'm not prepared for the onslaught of erotic images that flood into my mind when I enter our residence. It makes me stumble. They are all centered on me, they sing to me through my Force sense, and through our bond. The sudden rush of arousal and lust causes dizziness, making me grip the wall for support. I'm still hidden in the shadows when she wakes, not knowing I've come home.

I focus my attention on her, and I'm confused when I hear her tiny, erotic cries. Moving forward, I'm still concealed, but my mouth drops open in surprise and wonder.

The serene, ever composed Senator Padmé Amidala is masturbating and it's beautiful sight. Her bold and surprising actions add fuel to the already burning fire of my desire. I hold back my groan when all the blood in my body rushes to my groin. I'm so fucking hard. But I don't interrupt, instead I stand and watch, desperate to touch myself with each moan that slips past her lips.

She apparently missed me as much as I missed her.

She slips a slender finger into herself, then another. I hear her gasp, whisper my name, and I grin, knowing she's fantasizing about me. My chest suddenly feels tight. She increases her pace and is biting her lower lip, trying not to cry out. I can feel her slow orgasm building through our strong bond. She's almost to that point. I hear her whisper my name again and arch her back as she pushes her fingers deeper inside.

Fuck, I'm going to explode right here in my pants because she's come and she's giggling. I grit my teeth. Why the hell am I just standing here watching Padmé masturbate when I can show her just how much I appreciate what she's doing?

My intentions naughty, I grin as I quietly and quickly strip off my clothes. I creep closer to the bed, my wife still unaware of my presence in her mind. I thank the Force for the cloaking ability I've learned, although I wonder if in her euphoric state she'd notice me anyways. He eyes are shut tight, so she's unable to see the predator stalking her.

I can sense that she's thrilled she was able to satisfy herself, but now she's sad. Her sadness lingers around thoughts about me. She sobs, her hands dropping to the sheet beneath her. It's a quick change of emotions—from happiness to sadness—and I'm not going to allow it.

Not giving her time to dwell on them, I reach the edge of the bed and kneel before her. I quit cloaking my presence a split second before I grab her ass and lift her to my face, my mouth claiming the spot her fingers just left.

She screams my name, half in joy half in surprise and I hum against her. She doesn't have time to prepare herself for the entry of my tongue. The thoughts ramble from her into my mind: when I did come home, why hadn't she known I was here, how long have I been here, had I seen what she'd done… all of them came fast and at once until her mind becomes nothing but thoughts of pure joy because I _am_ here.

Anything she tries to say, however, is jibberish, incomprehensible words because I'm fucking her with my tongue.

Her back is going to snap if she arches it any higher. Using my hand to gently massage her ass, I drive her wild with my tongue, sweeping it up and down her folds, licking and sucking where I should. She's gasping, taking deep breaths, and alternating between clutching at the sheets, making her hands white, and gripping my hair.

I ignore her frantic tugs and continue to eat her out, savoring the taste. I've missed her sweet smell, her taste, her juices. I play with her nub with my tongue, using the tip to tease the tiny slit on the end. I nip at it and roll it between my teeth, causing her to jerk and shudder.

She's writhing uncontrollably and crying now, but it's in blissful joy. I don't need the Force to tell me that. She's begging me to stop and not stop at the same time. I can feel her second orgasm hit hard and she cries out my name.

I finally stop torturing my poor lovesick wife when she whimpers "please" and starts sobbing. I stand up at the edge of the bed and pull her legs to me, while crawling onto the bed. I kneel before her and bring her knees up to her chest. I cup her breasts and wait.

I wait until she opens her eyes and looks at me. The loving and gentle expression on her face makes me smile.

I simply whisper my devotion of love and slowly enter her. The position I put her in makes it all the more erotic. She's so tight and when I'm finally planted inside of her, I groan. She whimpers, raising her hips to take all of me in. I start to move, ever so slowly. I methodically leave her and then slam back into her, raising her hips at an intended angle. I drop my head down, closing my eyes.

I'm driving her to the brink of insanity, I know I am. I've fucked her enough times to know where her sweet spot is and because of it, she's having tiny little orgasms with each thrust. Her breasts are fucking perfect and I fondle them, her neck mine to nuzzle. She wants to kiss me, but I won't allow it. I avoid her mouth by placing tiny kiss on her brow, her nose, her chin… everywhere I can to ask her forgiveness for being away for so long.

She's unable to hold back her screams, her moans, and she's raised her hands to claw at my back, fisting and pounding at my shoulders as I increase my pace. Sweat beads on my body, and I groan in wicked pleasure. I grab my wife's hands, lacing her fingers in mine, lifting them above her head, preventing her from drawing any more blood. I continue to pound into her, faster and faster, making her scream with each hard, determined thrust.

One doesn't need his hearing and be a Jedi, or that's what I'll tell myself in the morning thanks to her screaming of my name. Padmé's likely to have a raw throat for eternity and there's a primitive part of me that likes the idea that she'll have to present ideas to the Senate with a sore throat.

My own roar is powerful enough to shake the windows in the room when I come. I shudder and unfold Padmé's legs, raising them into the air and push myself deeper, letting my seed pour into her. My eyes roll back and I come and come again with a guttural moan, before I drop my forehead onto her shoulder and into her damp hair.

When her breathing calms, I lift my head, afraid I've unintentionally killed my wife in some way. Instead, I find her gazing up at me with a brilliant nymph-like smile and unshed tears in her eyes. I sigh, releasing the fear I'd let settle and claim her mouth in several long, loving and deep kisses.

I know she's fallen asleep when she stops responding to my kisses. Pushing the damp strands of hair away from her face, I smile. I roll to my side, grabbing her around the waist and spoon her against me. I hold her tight, promising never to leave her for so long again.

During the night, I'm forced awake by the innocent little wiggles of her backside against my groin. She's driving me into madness, even in her sleep. I finally put a stop to it by making love to her again and again each time she wakes me.

I'm no longer longing for her, instead I'm loving her.


End file.
